Roque doesn’t answer but he stands up, swiping at my phone as he moves away from the sofa.
“No!” I cry out, moving the tray off of my lap as fast as I can without knocking everything to the ground. “No! You can’t call him, what are you doing?” My ankle twists under my sudden weight and I cry out, falling back to the sofa, but Roque doesn’t even turn around.
He’s crossed the room now and is headed down the hall. I want to follow him, but I don’t think that I can put weight on my ankle.
But I could crawl across the floor.
Dropping to my knees, I start to crawl, doing my best to keep my ankle elevated off of the ground so that I don’t accidentally knock it on anything. It’s slow going, and I don’t know where he went, but I head down the hall after him, trying to listen for him over the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.
“Roque,” I hiss out, then pause to listen. A door slams ahead of me and I pick up the pace, breathing heavy as I crawl down the hall. Thank goodness he has some rugs on the floor, because otherwise the hardwood would dig into my knees.
Nothing. Not like I really expect him to answer, of course, but it would be nice if he at least let me know where he was. Finally, I make it to the end of the hall, and I’m surprised to find a door there that leads outside. Taking a huge breath, I push myself up onto my feet and pull myself to a stand using the door handle. It’s unlocked, but I take a moment to look out the window before I burst out there like an idiot.
Roque is standing with his back to me, gesturing wildly while he talks on the phone. The backyard here is just as gorgeous as the front, and I enjoy the sights for a moment before my eyes fall back on him. Even though I can’t see his face, I can tell that he’s pissed.
Who knows what David is saying to him?
For that matter, who knows what Roque is saying to David?
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and turn the handle, but the door flies out of my grasp. Roque has pulled it from me, and he’s standing right outside the door, his eyes locked on mine, breathing heavily.
Without saying a word he bends and picks me up, pulling me close to his chest and walking back into the house. He pauses only long enough to kick the door shut behind us and then marches back down the hall to the living room.
“Roque?” I venture, but he doesn’t answer. There’s a hot heat coming off of his body that I haven’t felt before. It’s not like when we were together, and I realize with a start that he’s really mad.
Even though I’m half expecting him to throw me onto the sofa, he puts me down gently and then paces the room, running his hand through his hair. I watch him for a moment before I can’t stand it any longer and I pipe up.
“What the hell was that?”
He turns to me, his eyes wide. “What the hell was that? That was me calling your piece of shit ex-husband, Eva! Why didn’t you tell me before that he’s been looking for you? Do you know that he’s absolutely fucking crazy?!”
I do, actually, yeah, but instead of saying that, I hold my tongue. I have a very good feeling that Roque isn’t done just yet, and I’m right.
“He seems to think that you belong to him, did you know that? And you were right, he hired goons to find you, and apparently they did a good fucking job of it, because guess where he is right now?”
I don’t want to guess, and I shake my head to tell him that.
He acknowledges me with a glance before going off again. “Your apartment. The fucker’s waiting for you at your apartment, Eva, and he told me that he has no intention of leaving until he has you back, so how do you feel about that?”
Nothing. I don’t feel anything. Maybe cold. Terrified. Everything that I’ve worked so hard for is about to come crashing down around my head, and it’s all because of David.
“No,” I whisper, but that’s the only word that I can get out. I feel incredibly lightheaded and I reach out for something to hold onto for balance, but there’s nothing there and my hand swipes out at open air.
The motion throws me off-balance and I feel myself start to tip off of the sofa. Roque is standing across the room watching me, and by the time I see his face start to turn from anger to fear, it’s too late.
I’ve always had issues with my blood pressure, and all I can hope as I fall is that I miss the coffee table.
Chapter 18
Roque
“Eva!” Fuck, fuck, fuck! Eva’s fallen off of the sofa, just fucking tipped off of it like gravity suddenly became too much for her to fight against, and she clipped her head on the corner of the coffee table as she went down.
There’s already a pool of blood around her head when I reach her, but it’s a head wound, and everyone knows that head wounds bleed excessively, so I’m not really worried about that, but I need to see her face and her eyes and see if she knocked herself out.
Grabbing her by the shoulders, I easily lift her to a sit and then pick her up to put her back on the sofa. She moans, and I pull my shirt off, holding it tightly to the cut on her temple and reach up to open her eyes.
They flutter
